


No Comfort in the Waiting Room

by linatrinch



Series: Stormpilot Tumblr Prompts [14]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Car Accidents, Established Relationship, Hospitals, M/M, actually it was probably a motorcycle accident or something work related idk, hey this could be an au of If You Say So
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-18 01:52:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7294756
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/linatrinch/pseuds/linatrinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>anon asked, "because I like the pain can I request something inspired by the song What Sarah Said by Death Cab for Cutie?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Comfort in the Waiting Room

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JNm2_Wth1sE). Very sad. Be warned.

There were a lot of bad things about an ICU waiting room. Probably an infinite amount of bad things actually. The smell, the company, the color of the walls, the uncomfortable seats, the very poor reading material, the tension, the random bursts of tears, the random bursts of laughter, the news playing the same five stories over and over again.

But Finn figured that the absolute worst part was the visitation hours. 9 am to 10 am, 1 pm to 2 pm, and 4 pm to 5 pm. That was it. That was all the time he was allotted to sit next to Poe’s prone form, just staring at his marred face, rubbing their hands together between the wires and IVs, praying and praying and praying that those pretty eyelids would flutter open and look at him with recognition and love.

It had been two weeks since the accident, and Poe’s eyes still hadn’t opened. Nor had he stabilized much at all, hence the ICU waiting room. The surgeon said that he had flat lined twice on the operating table. He crashed again three days later. To put it mildly, things weren’t looking up much at all. They had told him that if Poe would wake up, his chances for a full recovery would triple at the very least. However, his chances of waking up in the first place were much like his chances of recovering right now.

They had people come speak to him the day after the accident about arrangements. Finn broke one of their noses. Thankfully, Kes was there to politely and firmly tell them to come back later before any charges were pressed. During the second week, Finn had gone back to them without telling Kes and set up what he could. Just in case.

Just in case.

When Poe was young, when they buried his mother, he told Finn that he really didn’t remember much of the whole thing. It was a pretty traumatizing event for him, really. But he remembered someone telling him, and he couldn’t remember who, but someone had said, “Love is watching someone die.” The words had stuck with him. It’s what he said when he proposed. “I know that’s a shitty pick up line,” he said, “but I want to be with you until the end, no matter what.”

Finn slowly turned the gold wedding band around and around with his thumb, feeling every groove and engraving over his finger like it was the only thing there to ground him. He stared down at the empty seat across from him in the dim lit room, the lights cut off because some people were trying to sleep at the harsh hour. (There was another family in the far corner that Finn hadn’t spoken to. They hadn’t spoken to him either, but the silence told him enough.) After the first week, Finn had started making Kes go home at night, half of the time promising that he was doing the same when it was obvious that he wasn’t. None of their friends were ever there in the middle of the night (not after the first two nights anyway), so he was alone again with nothing but his thoughts.

It had become increasingly clear in the last couple of days that Poe wasn’t going to make it. They had tried telling him gently, but Finn had wanted to hear none of it, had wanted to hold out hope for him as if it were the same as loyalty. But he looked worse every day, paler, thinner, eyes slowly sinking in, like the only thing really keeping him here was the ventilator. In those days, Finn had done a lot of thinking. After being upset, of course, and logical thoughts were finally able to make their way in.

There was a lot to handle. Insurance to get together, funeral expenses- God, funeral expenses. He’d have to pick a casket and music and flowers. At least they already had a plot. Of course, Poe would want to be beside his mother. Without their shared income, the house had to go. That was all right, though. Finn really didn’t care to be there by himself with the dog. Too big.

He tried desperately to not think about the things that weren’t going to happen, trying to focus on making new plans. No more once-a-year trips to somewhere they had never been, no more talks about whether to adopt or find a surrogate, no more anniversaries, no more arguing about what to do for the holidays- 

Finn knew it hadn’t really fell down on him yet, though. He realized, while thinking on what to do with Poe’s car, that he didn’t know what to do with the ring he was fiddling with. Surely he was supposed to remove it. They wouldn’t be married anymore, obviously. But the thought hurt. It hurt more than he could stand, so he pushed the thought away and decided to think through how to handle their taxes for this year instead. It was easier to think about the numbers of it all, the legal portions of what came with the next chapter, instead of feeling the reality of the situation. It wasn’t numbers and taxes and last names and wedding rings. It was Poe. Poe was leaving him, and all Finn wanted to think about was where he could afford to move when it was over.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this, though. They were supposed to be grouchy old men together. They were supposed to have children and get in arguments and make family decisions. They were supposed to die decades later, holding each other close in bed late in the night, peacefully, quietly, quickly. Not like this. Instead, Finn would have to find a way to get away from Kes in the morning long enough to find a funeral home. Just in case.

Just in case.

A nurse barreled into the room. “Mr. Dameron? Finn?”

He stopped twirling the ring, breath stalling in his chest. Did it have to be now? He wasn’t ready, though he’d never be ready. It was best to just get it over with, let Poe rest. He’d been through so much, conscious or not. Was it a good thing or bad thing that Kes wasn’t with him?

The nurse continued on as he looked up to her, the other family having already pointed him out. “Poe’s woken up,” she said. “He’s asking for you.”

It was like he didn’t really hear her. But no, he had. He definitely had. “What?” But it had to be a lie or a cruel joke. The oxygen mask, Finn thought. Poe couldn’t ask for anyone even if he was alive to do it.

“Your husband’s awake,” she said again, softer this time, approaching a few more steps. “He woke about ten minutes ago. We gave him a paper and pen to communicate, and he’s asking for you. He knows who he is, but he doesn’t remember the wreck. It’s possible he won’t. His vitals are stabilizing. The doctors have allowed you back if you want to-… to go…”

Finn was shaking, staring up at her, the edges of his vision going hazy and dark. “He’s alive?” Even to his own ears, his voice was thin and distant. His hand was shaking.

She nodded, looking at him sadly and confused, and started speaking again. He couldn’t hear her anymore, could hardly even see her. Sobs racked through his body, and he placed a hand over his mouth to try muffling the sound. He couldn’t even _think_.

No funeral arrangements, no house hunting- All of the new plans were gone, replaced again with all of the old ones that had been put in place years ago. His entire life was suddenly given back when he was so sure it had never really existed in the first place.

Poe was alive. Awake and alive and wanting to see him. Poe wanted to see him.

Finn stumbled to his feet in a hurry, the nurse quickly going to his side and helping him best she could. “Do I look okay? Am I all right?” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d showered or even so much as had a change of clothes. Why the hell he was worried about his appearance suddenly was beyond him. That didn’t matter. Poe’s alive. Poe’s alive. Poe wants to see him.

He didn’t register any answer given to him, and the way to the ICU and straight to Poe’s room was like a blur. Everything else was gone. Nothing else mattered. _Poe Poe Poe Poe Poe_ -

Finn stopped at the doorway. All of the machines were still hooked up to him, but his hands were strapped down to the bed, likely to keep from panicking and attacking the ventilator. Maybe. Had the nurse told him that? Then his head moved, the curls clinging to him in a mesh, bright eyes instantly finding his. Poe’s hand closest to him opened, stretching towards him, and Finn ran forward to take it in both of his, gripping him and feeling his husband grip back. Weak. Cold. Clammy.  _Alive_.

The open notebook beside Poe’s leg had his messy handwriting scrawled over the page. 

_Where’s Finn?_

_Husband_

Finn pushed it aside so he could sit. “I love you,” he breathed, chocking back tears and leaning forward enough to press a kiss to Poe’s forehead. “Fuck, Poe. I love you so much. I love you.” 

His love gripped his hand until it was shaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Send some stormpilot prompts to my [tumblr](http://linatrinch.tumblr.com)! I have another one sitting in there right now.


End file.
